


Confessions

by Yours_K



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/F, Female-Centric, Love Confessions, vintage lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yours_K/pseuds/Yours_K
Summary: Lady Sybil Crawley wants more from her maid.





	Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> A little musing on the matter of Sybil and Gwen's friendship(?) turning into something more. This might have chapters added to it if the mood strikes or it gets a good response. Feel free to comment suggestions.

After last night’s dinner, excess heat had swelled up from the great fires downstairs. The heat seemed to balm the room in a yellowy bath of light that took over the dancing shading from the flames lapping in the grate of Sybil's own bedroom this early winter morning. 

Gwen, the maid, ran gentle fingers through Lady Sybil's hair as she sat at her Lady’s bedside. Efficient fingers plucked a tiny whisp of lint from the dark strands and put it into the waste paper basket. 

"Thank you Gwen." 

"That's my pleasure My Lady."

Silence fell as Lady Sybil noted the absence of the hand on her. The lady's own fingers wrapped around Gwen's; scrubbed raw and blistered just a little with labour and nervous chewing. 

"Gwen, you won't leave me alone while he's in the house... will you?"

"No, My Lady. I've told Anna I'll be staying tonight until you sleep so I'm cleared with Mrs Hughes. You've nothing to worry yourself with." Gwen's Yorkshire lilt hummed between them and soothed Lady Sybil in ways she didn't understand. The maid's calming effect was a necessity when Sybil had one of her bouts of dizzying anxiety. Cora, Her Ladyship, knew that when Lady Sybil was feeling under the weather, Gwen was to drop all other duties to care for Sybil. And Gwen didn't mind at all. 

Gwen stared at Sybil's fingers around her own. "My Lady..." she began but decided not to question. She simply brushed the soft hands of authority with her damaged fingertips, wincing her apologetic silence of the class system that she could not escape from. 

There, before he,r were Lady Sybil Crawley's beautiful hands; soft as a dove's wings with the protection of upper class life.   
And then there were Gwen's: puckered with labour and age that her face showed not. Gwen swallowed and glanced up at her mistress but Sybil wasn't glancing. She was gazing. 

Adoration brimmed the lady's eyes and tears jewelled at one corner. 

"My Lady... please don't worry about Mr Haines. I'm here to keep you safe... oh, don't cry." She plucked an embroidered handkerchief from seemingly nowhere and leant right down over Lady Sybil to wipe away the tears with the loyalty of a fierce protector. 

"Gwen, I'm not crying because of Mr. Haines... I'm crying because... well... Gwen, you see..." Although she always had been the quietest of the three sisters, Sybil was well enough read to rarely be speechless but the words simply would not form in her throat. 

An instant flush crept over the collar of Gwen's uniform. Her dabbing hand froze. "I'm so sorry My Lady. I've never mean'o make you upset..."

"You haven't Gwen. You haven't." 

"But then why are you cr-..."

"Because I love you."

Oh.   
Gwen lowered the handkerchief from Sybil's tears and sat up straighter. She remained watching the Lady. 

"You mean... like a friend? Or like a sister: like Mary or Edith?"

"Gwen... no. You see, I mean that I..." The hesitation for political correctness' sake lasted a full minute. "...love you. And I have done since you came here when I was quite young. I'm old enough now to make my own decision about this... I've always admired your diligence; your calm non-intrusiveness. I've always wished I could be like you."

"Oh... My Lady. You shouldn't wish to be like me. No disrespect to your family but I don't have the quality of life you do..."

"Exactly," Sybil sat up in bed and clutched at Gwen's hands. "If we were as one, we could, quite literally, see how the other half lives... you fascinate me Gwen Hastings." Lady Sybil whispered, leaning in with her eyes alive. The flames dances in the deep pools of her pupils. 

Gwen's mouth opened uselessly to protest but as her eyes closed in ginger indignation a finger cut her off. A singular soft finger with power to hush and potential for so much more. Steely eyes gazed at the lady, her hair still in loose rolls and hanging as her gold earrings did. 

"Hush Gwen. Please. Most nice girls wouldn't argue with their mistress." Her tone was firm but cut with bemusement. 

Gwen’s lower lip curled inwards into her mouth and she ran her tongue over where Lady Sybil’s finger had been. Somewhat unconsciously, she wanted to taste the trace of her, where she had been, touched. “Sorry, My Lady.” She said quickly but not curtly. It was not a maid’s prerogative to argue and Gwen knew, plain and simple, that she would never argue with her lady. She gave a small affirmative nod to both women which ran alongside her hidden sentiment. Gwen was diligent, caring and entirely invested in the young lady Sybil who looked so delicious in the low light. 

A smirk curled at the outermost point of Sybil’s lips. Gwen saw it even before it had formed. It was always there, a hint of Sybil’s devilishness, a renegade to all but Gwen. With a polite cough, Gwen straightened. “Now then, My Lady, I suggest it is time for your morning toilet. May I help you to the bath, I’ve already checked that it’s the right temperature for you.”

“Of course Gwen, I… I do apologise for holding up your morning routine. Pass me my robe and I’ll get up.”

Of course Gwen already had the robe to hand. She had a beautiful knack of producing the necessary items at a moment’s notice. “Nonsense, My Lady. This is my favourite part of my mornings.” She realised what the implication of her comment were not even a second after she said it but Lady Sybil did not seem at all bothered, despite Gwen’s fire-flushing cheeks. She hastily handed Sybil her robe and turned her head to allow the Lady’s modesty as she got out of bed. Gwen knew in about a minute hence, she would be seeing all Sybil had to offer anyway, as she did most mornings, but it ‘never cost nothing to be polite’. 

Sybil gave a hearty chuckle and took the robe. “Gwen, dear, sweet Gwen.” And shook her head lightly. “You know, Gwen… I think it might be high time you become comfortable seeing me undressed.”

Gwen’s mouth opened uselessly once more but she could not formulate anything to say for a stretch of time. Finally she retorted, “I am comfortable, thank you, My Lady, most comfortable.”

A nod came from Sybil’s direction as she slid her arms into the silk robe. 

“And might I say, My Lady, I think that robe is very lovely.” It truly was; a soft burgundy with gold embroidery, silken, soft and luxurious. Gwen decided to leave out the part about how beautifully it smelled; of her Lady and all her perfumes and softness that came with her. So many times had Gwen, whilst cleaning, picked it up and admired it, feeling the fabric, bringing it to her nose and getting lost in a world where class, law and gender simply did not exist. Her thoughts were heavily interrupted by Sybil’s next question.

“Would you like it Gwen?” 

Christ Almighty! Could the Lady say anything more this morning that could make Gwen break into a delightfully sticky sweat?

“My L-Lady, I hardly think-...”

“Nonsense Gwen. If we are to be Sweethearts then I firmly believe you should have something of mine and I should have something of yours.” This made Gwen feel dizzy with the heat radiating from herself. “But, My Lady, I couldn’t… I have nothing to give you in retur-...” She stopped and thought for a moment. Did she have anything? She would give her Lady the world if she could, without a single thought or regret. 

“Well, maybe I do have something but…”

“Don’t be silly Gwen. I’m joking.”

“Oh…” Gwen looked down, trying to hide the disappointment forming in her eyes. She truly would like nothing more than to be gifted the beautiful robe and run back to her room shared with Anna to stash it away under her mattress. It would be the most precious thing she owned by far.

“Gwen? Gwen, are you alright?” Sybil asked, her head tilting a little to the right, her hands coming to greet Gwen’s elbows.

“My Lady, I- I’m fine. Yes.” She murmured, completely and utterly unconvincingly. 

“Gwen,” The Lady softly began again. “Would you like this?” She asked, gesturing to the robe on her body.

Gwen could do nothing but look up shyly. Yes, she did. Because it was Sybil’s, and although she would never dare take, she would eagerly accept. 

“My Lady, I couldn’t…” She replied, gathering strength to look up.

“That isn’t what I asked Gwen.” Her tone became firmer, her accent more clipped. Something she knew she could use to her advantage when needed and something Gwen would love to hear a little more often, preferably in this room.

“Well My Lady,” Gwen began this time, realising the bathwater was getting cold and they simply couldn’t go round and round in circles all morning. “Well, I agree that if we are to be… Sweethearts, then, it would be fitting for me to… have one of your robes, but only if you want me to. I would never wish to deprive you my Lady and I truthfully think that you needn’t waste your lovely things on me.” She rambled helplessly, admiringly, adoringly. Sybil simply started to walk over to her bath, shrugging the robe off as she went. She wasn’t entirely naked underneath; her bedclothes shrouded her glorious body but the fullness of her bottom had Gwen staring and the opaquicity of the nightdress in the morning firelight only gave way to hundreds of fleeting but feverish daydreams.

Sybil turned and, shocked by the glaring distance between the two women, beckoned Gwen to come closer. Once Gwen’s numb feet had padded the distance, she felt the robe pushed into her hands. It felt warm to the touch and as soft as Sybil. 

“It’s yours now,” Sybil whispered. “Now Gwen, will you please help me undress?”

Gwen gawped in a manner that would have looked very unladylike indeed. Never in a year of helping to bathe and dress Lady Sybil had she helped her out of her nightdress, a garment equivalent to underwear. That was what the dressing screen by the bath was for. But dutifully, she put down the robe and replaced its softness with one far superior. Without saying a word, her fingers nimbly untied the nightdress at the back and reached down to lift it over Sybil’s head, messing her hair slightly in the process. Gwen smiled, eyes failing to belie her adoration for the woman before her. She didn’t dare look anywhere but into Sybil’s eyes for fear she might melt into a loving pool of arousal, even though she could draw her body from memory down to the very freckle if commanded. Or even if not commanded; so many times had Gwen pictured her. She always made sure her fantasies were doting and dutiful, she would never wish to exploit her Lady, even if she would never have known. But now, they stood, together, one naked, who had just confessed her feelings minutes earlier. Gwen thought she must be dreaming.

Gently, Gwen helped Sybil to lower herself into the warm bath. She’d be damned if Sybil was to slip and hurt herself in this beautiful fantasy. 

“Thank you.” Sybil said, again at a whisper. Her eyes were doey and sincere but also so composed. Something that was ever-present in someone so well-up in British Society. Gwen only smiled, picking nervously at her fingers, wondering what might happen next. 

For the following few minutes, Gwen helped Sybil bathe, settling down behind her to rinse off her soapy hair. It was only when she brushed it all on to one of the Lady’s shoulders that she noticed a freckle she had never seen before. At least she didn’t think she had. How? She didn’t know, but decided swiftly it needed to be catalogued. Ever so slowly and with such grace that certainly didn’t arise from her upbringing, she leaned down and kissed it unthinkingly. She could smell the warmth of the water, mixed with the most delectable natural scent on Sybil’s skin and she smiled, feeling truly content for the first time in an age. Sybil smiled too, her head falling back slowly to rest on Gwen’s shoulder. 

“You know, My Lady,” Gwen said, smiling, gazing at the freckle. “I meant to say; I love you, too.”


End file.
